The Count rang a bell, and a Phantôme appeared. "Take my eagle out of the flet," said the Count. "No need to awaken the eagle-driver: Gali will drive."
In one minute, the eagle was ready. The Count and Arafrantz mounted in back; Pippino sat next to Gali in front, and the eagle launched into the air au galop. They flew over the Strada Finrodorio and past the Forum of the Mallorni, and then crossed the Riviera, and departed from decent places where there is siesta.
"This is good territory for spider-hunting, if we had time," said the Count, pointing at some rather quaint and rustic cobwebs. Arafrantz did not reply.
Shortly the eagle arrove at a forest of dark fir, where the trees waged war with one another, and their branches rotted and withered. There on a stony height stood a black tower with a battlemented wall, three great tiers of cunning masonry, and a few impaled heads with long elf-hair. At the front was a small lodging for the sallow half-Orc who served as concierge. Pippino knocked; the concierge made a few difficulties until the Count grasped the Ring that hung from a pendant around his neck; and the concierge immediately gibbered in terror.
The Count smiled with amused detachment. "Take care of my eagle," he told the concierge, and he and Arafrantz dismounted, followed by Gali and Pippino. They entered a vaguely spidery lair.
